


Déjà vu

by The_Apocryphal_One



Series: Love Without Memory (Kamunami Week 2017) [6]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9820043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Apocryphal_One/pseuds/The_Apocryphal_One
Summary: Part One: This isn’t the first time Izuru has watched her die.Part Two: It also isn’t the first time Chiaki has still reached him, nonetheless.





	1. Day 6: Death

It is an unexpected surprise to Izuru when, instead of total blackness, he sees the view through The Other’s eyes. In no time he concludes that he can witness the events of the Neo World Program, despite supposing to be suppressed. A glitch in the system, perhaps? It does not matter how; what matters is that he is present, nestled back in a corner of The Other’s now-dominant mind. So small to be unnoticeable, so small he can’t even influence anything, but he can watch. And so he is there when The Other meets Nanami again.

Izuru had known about the gestalt AI—Future Foundation security was pathetically easy to hack for him—and he’d predicted it would take Nanami’s form. There was a small chance it would have taken Yukizome Chisa’s, but not much. So it is not a surprise for her to be here.

The Other likes spending time with her, which is also unsurprising. Nanami’s words to him had suggested they’d known each other, been close, and that emotional attachment still exists—Izuru’s tears over her death had been proof of that. But it’s fortuitous—even if he can only watch, it still gives him the chance to finally spend time with her. He doesn't know how similar she is to the one he knew, he'd had such a short time and he'd only gotten to see her in times of stress...he doesn't know if this is how she'd act when she's carefree. But even if she's different, to see another version of her...

He hadn’t calculated just how _happy_ it would make him.

He watches the game play out, watches her help The Other solve trial after trial, and this, this is what he’s been looking for. It is interesting to try and solve murders without being in control of his body, being unable to search where he has a _hunch_ the definitive piece of evidence is. It is interesting to watch the struggle between hope and despair, finally free of outside influence or sabotage. And it is interesting to spend time with the new Nanami. He is honestly the most content he can recall being.

And then. The fifth trial happens. He figures out the truth the moment The Other holds up that little piece of tinfoil, the light catching off it. He figures out Komaeda’s motive easily, because Komaeda is _boring_ and _predictable_ , and with Komaeda’s luck the murderer would _of course_ be her. If he were in control of their body, his breath would have stuttered, his heart would palpitate, his body would sweat. But he is not, and the Other continues on, blissfully oblivious.

He wordlessly watches the trial progress. His mind races to try and find a way for this to end without either her or everyone else, including him, dead, and it’s _not there._ And now—now her mouth is moving, laying out the trail for her doom. The Other is figuring it out and shaking his head, and his distress is so intense it’s rebounding back and forth in their shared mind and shared heart, growing stronger with each pass.

Ah, this must be…the final proof. The final proof that despair is stronger than hope. Because this is the second time she’s offered up her life for her classmates, and the second time she will die for it. Hope always bows before death, and thus despair.

But at that moment he doesn’t care about the outcome of his game, whether hope or despair is stronger. He only cares that the gavel is falling on the button, that she is being dragged away, that _she is in danger again_ —even if she isn’t the same Nanami, it doesn’t _matter_ —she’s _still Nanami_ —

In her execution, she runs, and she tries to escape, and she fails _._

And she dies again, wrought from existence with a falling block and an explosion.

And in his little corner of Hinata Hajime’s mind, Kamukura Izuru despairs.


	2. Day 7: Rebirth

Izuru’s despair only grows stronger as the final trial progresses, because there _is no way to beat Enoshima._ The Other is going to choose to graduate, because that is logically the _only_ choice he can make—it is human instinct to preserve one’s existence, and he will not choose to shut down the program knowing it will erase him, again. Izuru is going to die, and Enoshima is _going to come back,_ and _yes_ he had calculated that was a possibility, but to suddenly be faced with the reality of its inevitability, to be embroiled in despair as it happens, is a _stark_ difference from supposition.

There’s a change. One minute he’s looking through The Other’s teary eyes, the next he’s staring down at his hands. Somehow, his little corner of existence has taken physical form, a courtroom with his fingers curling claw-like around his podium’s edges. He glances up; in front of him are The Other, staring wide-eyed as if being confronted with his existence for the first time, and Nanami.

“We need to help him, too,” she’s saying softly to The Other, whose demeanor is somehow hopeful again. The Other looks upon him with something between disgust and pity, and that—

That _irks_ him, and he finds himself compelled to tear down their hopes, bring them back to reality.

Even now Izuru does not yell, but he spits the words, cold and poisonous, laying out all the facts for The Other. They do not owe the world anything, they are only going to be betrayed and used again and again, and what’s the point in continuing to fight? Despair _has won_. He doesn’t know a way to beat Enoshima. He can’t do anything. It’s not his fault or his problem. He even turns his words on himself, self-loathing as he recounts how his talents aren’t even real. He is nothing. They are nothing.

For each declaration he makes, The Other counters, statements flying like bullets from his mouth and pointed finger as he professes that none of that matters, because they can make their own future. And each one chisels another chink in his armor; Izuru’s emotional state is too erratic, too distracting for him to speak efficiently. His arguments are falling apart and he can’t _understand_ how The Other can believe in hope when it is the weaker of the two. He’s clutching his podium so hard it is likely all that’s keeping him upright. His vision is blurry.

Cool, gentle hands take his face, and he starts. Nanami has left her place by The Other’s side, and is smiling at him as she cradles his wet cheeks.

“It’s okay,” she says kindly. “It’s okay to be angry and sad. The world’s been unfair to you both. And you’re right, you don’t owe it anything. But…don’t you think you owe it to yourselves to make a future _you_ like?”

…A future _he_ likes?

…Does he like this? Does he like this feeling of despair, curdling like something dead and rotting beneath his sternum? Weighing down his shoulders and making him sick to his stomach?

No, he doesn’t. But the future he’d _like_ is one he can’t predict, and despair has proven itself to be that wild card—

A thought occurs to him, looking into soft pink eyes.

_How is she here?_

She is—she is _dead._ Her avatar was deleted, her data erased. The closest thing to an explanation his harried mind can offer up is that she is an amalgamation of his and The Other’s memories. And that is…something else he couldn’t have predicted. Is this her hope again? But hadn’t despair already won? So then how can hope still be putting up such a good fight?

And, with striking crystal clarity, Izuru realizes the answer he’s been looking for is what’s been in front of him all along.

_Oh. Oh, I get it now._

It’s not that hope is stronger than despair, or vice-versa—they’re equals. One is meaningless without the other. And both are meaningless without emotion—you cannot hope or despair if you are not emotionally invested in anything. It’s why he felt almost nothing until Nanami died. Logic and talent, those things have their places, but they are no substitutes. Possessing or pursuing only them won’t make an unpredictable future, a future he wants—hasn’t his entire life up until now been proof of that?

_No, what really matters…is the bonds you make with people._

As if reading his mind, Nanami smiles brilliantly and steps back. He gazes at her, the lump in his throat making words impossible. This is the second time she’s saved him, does she realize that? He has so many things he wants to say—

But somehow, he feels that she already knows.

The Other—Hinata—holds out his hand. “We can beat Enoshima,” he says, clearly. “If we just try, everything will be fine. You, me, our friends…we’ll all be fine even if we go through with the shutdown. I really believe that. Do you?”

Instead of responding, Izuru takes Hinata’s hand, and he feels born again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So this and the last chapter were (obviously) based off Hajime’s debate against Izuru in Chapter 6. Mostly because I was wondering how someone so emotionless would actually reach that pits of despair (whereas before DR3 I thought he was emotionless because he’d fallen into despair). Needless to say, writing despairing Izuru was even harder than writing emotional Izuru.
> 
> Anyway, thank you so much to everyone who commented on these stories! I enjoyed writing for this OTP week and I hope y'all enjoyed reading it. This fandom is great and I'm very lucky to have met such great people. All you readers, whether you commented or not, are awesome.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Don’t worry, like the summary says there’s a part two to this. That's tomorrow's theme.


End file.
